Stargate Atlantis:  Harm's Way
by the morrighan
Summary: My version of a Stargate Atlantis Season six.  This is the second story.  Warning:  Character death.
1. Chapter 1

Stargate Atlantis: Harm's Way

"Sheppard, do you read? Sheppard, copy?"

The voice was Rodney McKay's, hissing over the PA and sounding all over the city like a lost soul. Atlantis was plunged into darkness as a massive power disruption had killed every system. Even the emergency lights were pale, pale pools of flickering amber, barely discernible in the overwhelming gulf of darkness.

The silence was eerie. The tension was palpable.

In one sure moment Todd had moved to his feet as the force field around his cell collapsed in a wink of blue light. It only took a second for him to break the cell's lock and open the door. It only took a second for him to step out of his prison and slither past the two guards who were advancing, scouring the cell with the bright lights of their P90s.

The cell was already empty.

Todd had fled.

He ran down the darkened hallways, pausing to listen, to smell, to taste the air and determine the whereabouts of the humans who would surely be hunting him. Freedom was intoxicating, but the need to feed was stronger still. Weakened as he was Todd was an easy target. He needed to replenish his depleted stores of energy before he could escape.

He considered carefully, listening to the voices darting around the air from the PA until they fell silent. With a cold, cold smile he selected his target and made his way to his meal.

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"Sheppard! Shep…oh."

"Make it fast, Rodney!" John Sheppard urged, flinging himself onto the Ancient Chair. Sluggishly the Ancient device responded, reclining and emitting a low light as power began to course through it. A low hum made the military commander's joints ache and he pressed his palms to the arm pads, trying to access more power and restore the city. "All teams! Search the city! Todd is to be apprehended alive. Attention all personnel. We are in lock down. Stay where you are until further notice!" John issued commands through his earpiece. He heard them relayed over the city's PA system, but his voice sounded even harsher and was interspersed by static.

"Todd's loose?" Rodney exclaimed, on his hands and knees at the base of the Chair, his lap covered in wires and crystals faintly glowing like a tangled string of Christmas lights. "There's a Wraith loose in the city? The city should be detecting that and initiating—"

"I know! It's trying! Make it quick! What do I need to do?"

"You're doing it! Just concentrate and I will do the rest as I hobble the interface! The city should reboot after that on its own. Tell it to behave!"

John smirked a moment, but grew solemn. "Crap." He closed his eyes, body tense, wanting nothing more than to be searching for Todd, to be active but instead he was forced to sit in the Chair and communicate with a very cranky city. The odd connection between man and machine commenced, as his strong ATA gene directed the city's limited AI in ways that he couldn't begin to explain or understand. "Concentrate on what, exactly?"

"Power," Rodney supplied. "Think of increasing the ZPMs loading from the secondary systems. Tell the city to enact basic protocols. I don't understand why this keeps happening," he grumbled.

"Could I locate Todd with this thing?" John asked, adjusting his body on the hard confines of the Chair. He licked his lips, tried to relax into the interface as he closed his eyes.

"No, at least not while we barely have power. One thing at a time!" Rodney snatched his radio off the floor. "Zelenka! Anything! Hello!"

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Radek Zelenka grabbed his radio as Rodney's voice cawed from it. "Negative. I can't access anything but the atmospheric controls at this point! Amelia?"

The young woman looked up from her console, flashlight in her mouth until she removed it to speak. "Nothing here either. It's dead in the water."

"And we're sitting ducks," Radek sighed. "I'll try re-routing what I can to your section but it will take some time."

"We haven't got time! Todd's on the loose!" Rodney's voice blared from the radio.

"What?" Radek looked round at the encroaching darkness as Amelia Banks drew her sidearm. Even Chuck Campbell paused in his ministrations to stare round at the darkness where anything could be hiding, even a Wraith. A very hungry Wraith which probably wouldn't stop at one victim. "In that case I shall have what power I can find re-routed to you immediately!"

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John tried to relax in the Chair, guiding the tendrils of power to where he wanted them to go. He tried to subsume all concerns as he concentrated on getting the city up and running once more. There was a strange pain in his side but as the power slowly, so slowly charged the pain lessened. "We can't have the 'Gate inoperable. We can't leave Woolsey out there."

"Out where?" Rodney asked, flinging open the panel on the Chair and quickly accessing controls. It was a mishmash of Ancient and Earth technology but he was used to this kind of mishmash and worked quickly, fingers nimble.

"He is meeting with the Genii on neutral ground."

"What? And you let him go?"

"It was his decision and we need the intel."

"When is he due back?"

"Two hours. Will the 'Gate be operational in that time?" John looked over, opening his eyes as Rodney hadn't answered, but his silence was answer enough. "Crap," John whispered, settling back and closing his eyes once more.

"Crap," Rodney echoed, shaking his head and trying to work faster.

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P90 lights were beams shining down dark hallways, chasing back the shadows and the gloom. The beams crisscrossed and separated to illumine each step as teams made their ponderous way across the expanse of the city. With the transporters inoperable it was a time-consuming search of hallways, stairwells and rooms that weren't locked and inaccessible.

"God I hate this," Evan Lorne mumbled, sweeping his light ahead of him. Door after door was barred to him, since the panels were inactive and the doors lacked handles or knobs except for the larger communal areas which were full of frightened people that had to be reassured before the team could advance. "I'm sure he's cleared this deck by now."

"We need to be certain, major. Remember he has been both a guest and a prisoner so he knows Atlantis well," Teyla Emmagan reminded. She did not mind the loss of power, as Kanaan and her infant son would be locked in their room and therefore safe.

"He's hungry," Ronon Dex stated. The three exchanged a grim look, knowing all too well what that would mean for some hapless denizen of the city. The need to find the Wraith was growing more desperate by the minute, before someone became his first meal.

"Well, I doubt he'd stop in the cafeteria. Let's move on," Evan decided, grimacing at his poor attempt at humor.

"I still cannot sense him," Teyla stated, frustrated.

"Teldy, copy? Status?" Evan asked, talking into his radio. With his commanding officer effectively incommunicado the second in command took the reins in defense of the city.

In another section of Atlantis a squad of marines paused, an attractive blond woman at their head. She pulled her radio closer to her mouth, gaze darting everywhere in the darkened labs. "Nothing so far, sir. Level C is secure as far as we can tell. All of the labs are either vacant or locked down."

"Acknowledged. Proceed. Reynolds report."

On the upper levels Jason Reynolds and his team stopped, boots clomping to a standstill on the iron grids. "Nothing, sir. Level A is clear so far and all balconies are locked down. Should we proceed to the higher areas?"

"Negative. Head back down to the Gate room and await orders. Beckett, copy? How's that scan coming?"

Carson Beckett nearly jumped at the almost garbled voice issuing from his radio. He lifted it to his mouth, glancing at his staff. "If you're referring to the life-signs detector I've almost got it calibrated to eliminate all signals except for Todd's."

"Almost? That's not good enough, doc. We need that intel now," Evan remarked. He gestured and the team cautiously turned a corner. Blackness preceded them and followed them. The emergency lights flickered to life, casting amber pools across the gloom, but were quickly doused once more as the power failed.

"Can we contact Sheppard, or McKay?" the doctor asked. He was standing in a pool of light provided by a flashlight and the life-signs detector, a white brightness of lab coat amid the darkness of the infirmary.

"Negative. They are engaged in trying to revive the city and our comms are down. We're working our way to you, doc." Evan sighed. "Do you sense anything yet?" he asked, turning to the woman beside him.

Teyla paused, concentrating. "No. I do not sense him yet. He is masking his presence quite well, which is disturbing to me. I should be able to sense him because he is within the city. Perhaps he has ventured out of the city or into another section entirely."

"No. He'll be close, or near the 'Gate to effect an escape once we're up and running," Ronon reasoned. "But until then…"

"He could be anywhere," Evan finished for the Satedan. "Hiding, or waiting for an opportunity."

"Or feeding," Ronon added with a scowl. His grip tightened on his big gun, and he felt the comforting weight of his sword at his back, the knife at his hip and assorted other weaponry.

The team advanced with renewed determination.


	2. Chapter 2

Stargate Atlantis: Harm's Way2

Richard Woolsey stood, hands tied behind his back as he was shoved into a building and then into a chair. A blindfold was torn off his face, setting his glasses askew but with a shake of his head and a twitch of his nose he righted them. "I hardly think this is necessary. I came alone and unarmed, as you can see." He looked down at his feet where his briefcase lay, opened. Papers were scattered, but he was certain the tracking device was at yet undiscovered.

You could never be too careful in the Pegasus Galaxy.

He was in a bland room in a bland building, on a bland planet that had no distinguishing features that he had discerned before being blindfolded and marched to this place. He looked round then met the gaze of his hostile hosts.

"Oh, but it is necessary, I'm afraid. We all know the duplicitous ways of Atlantis," said a smooth voice. The men parted to reveal Ladon Radim as he approached. His hair was cut short, and he bore a scar on one cheek, but otherwise he was recognizable.

"Just as we know the avaricious ways of the Genii," Richard replied in kind.

A tense moment, which could have resulted in violence but Ladon smiled, gestured. "Untie our guest. I apologize for the treatment, Mr. Woolsey, but it was necessary. I risk much just by meeting with you."

Richard felt his wrists being freed as one of the men cut the rope. He drew his arms forward, rubbing at the skin rubbed raw. "As do I. We were allies."

Ladon took a chair, and sat opposite Richard. The briefcase lay between them, like some barrier to cross or to keep them at odds. "We were, until Atlantis abandoned us all."

"And you took over the Coalition in our absence," Richard countered.

"A strong arm was needed to continue the war against the Wraith, especially now that they have united under a single queen," Ladon defended.

"Yes, so we've been hearing. Tell me about that."

Ladon considered. "I'm surprised you didn't send Sheppard. Was Colonel Errand-Boy too busy playing soldier?" he mocked, but did not get a reaction out of Richard.

"I am the leader of Atlantis, not him," he mildly explained. "His place is defending Atlantis. Mine is dealing with the leaders of each world. Leader to leader we can broker an amicable agreement."

"Perhaps." The two men stared at each other, assessing, contemplating. The Manarians around them shifted, uneasy, suspicious at the battle of words. They didn't know what to think or whom to believe, but they glared at Richard as he was from Atlantis and therefore could not be trusted.

"The Wraith?" Richard prompted at last.

"We were making great strides against them, until you abandoned us. Despite what you unleashed on the galaxy with your experiments we had them scattered and on the run. But then you disappeared. The Genii had no choice but to take over the military leadership of the Coalition before it was too late."

"Too late?" Richard asked, skeptical, but he kept his tone calm, reasonable.

"Yes. The Hives stopped fighting each other. We don't know why. They united and for a time they didn't bother us or bother any world. There were rumors they had left to follow after Atlantis. But then they returned, united under a single queen and began not only to cull but to colonize worlds, which hasn't happened in centuries."

"How do you know this?"

"Survivors of cullings told us how the Hives act as one unit, when before they were independent of each other, only forming loose alliances when necessary. Cullings now are more orchestrated. The curious thing is that the fleets of Hives do not linger in one place for very long, even when they are setting up outposts on a planet, as if they were searching for something, or running from something." Ladon paused, thinking. "We assumed it was Atlantis."

Richard considered. "Perhaps," he conceded. "What about the spread of the Hoffan plague? Are there any survivors still—"

"Eliminated. Most of them. If any remain they are in deep hiding. No one will shelter them now, not after the brutal reprisals after you abandoned us. Most worlds have no way to fight back so they had no choice but to comply or be wiped out. Why did you come here, Mr. Woolsey, apart from getting information?"

"We've been out of the loop for a while, and yes, we need information. More importantly, however, is the need to broker an alliance to fight the Wraith. We will gladly work with you and the Coalition to present a more formidable front."

"No." Ladon stood. "Atlantis cannot be trusted. You have proven that."

Richard stood. "And you can? We left to defend our home world from the Wraith, but now we are back and ready to stand with you against our common foe. Surely all of you can understand that." His gaze encompassed the men around them.

"Without Atlantis no other world is powerful enough or advanced enough to stand against the Wraith," one man said.

"Except for the Genii," another noted.

"Yes, but even we can't hope to match your technology yet," Ladon explained. "You jealously guard the secrets of the Ancestors for yourself, and scarcely share them even with your so-called allies. The vacuum you created we filled, but the Wraith also filled it. Several worlds once populous are now decimated. Several worlds once protected by you are now in Wraith hands and under Wraith control. Do you really believe that anyone will trust you now?"

Richard sighed. "We will earn their trust, but only if you allow us to join you against our common enemy. Let me speak to the other representatives of the Coalition. I believe that we can broker an agreement amenable to all parties and mutually beneficial to our combined leadership of the Coalition."

"Take him back to the Stargate, but there is no need to blindfold him. We shall never meet here again," Ladon instructed. He eyed the other man for a moment. "Until you offer us real support, as in giving us your ships and your weapons we are not full allies."

Richard closed his briefcase, shaking his head. "This is a big mistake, Ladon, and you know it. If you refuse our help you will ultimately fail."

"So speaks the hubris of Atlantis," a Manarian commented bitterly. The others grumbled their agreement and disdain.

Richard said nothing as he was roughly shoved towards the exit.

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The Wraith entered the high chamber. He crossed the expanse slowly, his footsteps silent. He paused. The room was dark, cast in shadows. Ambient lights gleamed from the high walls, pale blues and yellows that cast spurious illumination onto the floor. The Hive Ship was serenely traveling between cullings, always on the move. Always watchful. Always alert.

A throne was turned towards the large viewport where the expanse of stars glittered. Beneath screens were scrolling data. Lists of planets to be culled and colonized were on one screen. Estimations of Hive strengths and weaknesses were on another. Data on nearly everything in the galaxy that the queen needed to know. And systems that were endlessly scanning, endlessly attaining information.

The Wraith moved to one knee, bowing his head although the queen's back was to him as she sat watching the stars. Nevertheless he showed the proper respect. He would have even if the Drone guards weren't lurking in the corners, in the shadows, always watching. Mute observers of all that passed within that chamber, upon that throne.

This was the queen that would save the Wraith from annihilation.

This was the queen that would destroy Atlantis.

"My queen," he intoned deferentially. "Atlantis has returned, just as you have foreseen. We still have been unable to locate the one they call Todd, but we shall as soon as he can make an escape from the humans." He waited, but the queen was silent.

Except for one long nail tapping, tapping on the arm of her throne.

The Wraith swallowed, unusually nervous. "As you predicted they appear to be isolated from the other humans. Our contacts report that they have been met with hostility and defiance. They do not know of the new enemy in our midst."

"Yet."

It was one word, spoken in a slightly guttural, sultry rasp that made the Wraith straighten his back and lift his head to stare at the back of the throne. "We will keep monitoring the movements of their teams and keep scanning for the location of the one they call Todd. Do you wish us to capture any of the—"

"No."

The Wraith fell silent, waiting. But the queen said nothing else, just sat staring into space or at the monitors, or both. He remained on bended knee, uncertain. "We have two ships safeguarding the Iratus planet, as you commanded. Two more are scouting the edges of the last contact as you commanded. We begin colonization of the world with human children and have taken their shield technology to study."

"You tell me things I already know. Leave us."

There was a slight motion as she waved her hand, a languid flutter of long fingers. Her voice slithered along his skin, containing a slight psychic force that created a gentle pressure in his head to enforce her edict. Then it was gone and he could think clearly again.

"As you command." The Wraith moved to his feet, grateful. He strolled out of the chamber as calmly as he could, feeling the cold eyes of the guards on him although he had done nothing wrong. Had he? Nervously he reviewed the brief conversation and could find no fault with it. Maintaining his dignity he exited the chamber and paused to breathe a very human sigh of relief.

He had escaped unscathed this time. His good fortune was holding.

The chamber was doused in darkness once more. The guards were silent sentinels, motionless as they clasped their stunners and awaited any orders from their queen. Data continued to scroll. The expanse of stars and planets twinkled like hard diamonds in the blackness of space.

The silence was absolute, immutable.

Apart from one sound that was repetitive and endless.

The tapping and tapping of one long fingernail.


	3. Chapter 3

Stargate Atlantis: Harm's Way3

John opened his eyes. He felt a rush of power. It felt like a cool breeze on a summer's day, caressing his limbs and making his tense muscles relax into the Ancient Chair as if were a cozy recliner and not some sophisticated piece of Ancient technology. All he needed were a pair of slippers and a beer and he'd be right at home. He snorted at the thought. "How's it coming, Rodney?"

In reply lights flared and power surged, creating a sudden illumination that was almost blinding until it calmed and settled. "It's coming," Rodney said, tangled in wires and crystals at the base of the Chair. A ZPM was softly glowing orange-yellow as it sputtered to life. "Okay, not so fast this time. Take it easy and let her get there on her own."

"That's what they all say," John muttered, but closed his eyes and gently stroked the city with his mind. He licked his lips, fingers playing on the arm pads much as they would play on a woman's body. John was in effect wooing the city to do as he wished, and the city was responding in kind.

"That's it!" Rodney smiled as the power was restored slowly but steadily. He tapped his earpiece. "Radek, do you read me? Try it now!"

Abruptly the city came alive. Power instantly zoomed and every system was rebooted. Lights shone and air circulated. Screens became active and all controls were working.

"Whoa!" John said, sitting up as the Chair shifted under him. "Lorne report! Have you found Todd yet? I need a full—" Alarms began to chime as the city reacted to the threat in its midst.

"Damn it! The city's trying to initiate a lock down because of Todd!"

John leapt out of the Chair. "Of course she is, Rodney! Get those doors opened now! Override all systems!"

"Colonel Sheppard, we have 'Gate activation and no one is dialing! The—" Abruptly Chuck's voice was silenced.

"Crap! All teams to the control room now! Delta to the 'Gate room! Secure the 'Gate room! Keep the Shield raised! Zelenka, do you read? Keep the—" A woman's piercing scream interrupted the flurry of orders.

John took off at run.

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"Acknowledged, sir." Evan tapped his earpiece. "We go back to the control room. All teams report to the control room. Teldy, Baines, Johnson acknowledge."

"Major, we cannot proceed." Teyla stood at a closed door. Despite the waving of her palm over the control the door would not open. She frowned, opened the panel. "Everything looks fine."

"Wonderful. Now we're in lock down," Evan grumbled.

"The transporters should be working," Ronon realized, already heading back the way they had come. He was swinging his big gun like a machete, anxious to use it.

"Colonel Sheppard, copy? We're going to try a transporter to get to the control room. The city's in lock down," Evan informed, following Ronon and Teyla as they led the way back down the corridor. "Sir, copy? We are having to backtrack through the—"

A woman's piercing scream cut off his words.

At a glance the three whirled and ran up the stairs.

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"Och! I can't see a bloody thing on this oh that's better thank you," Carson's annoyance faded as the lights came on and the infirmary was once more operational. He smiled, eying his scanner where a red dot blinked, indicating a form only inches from him. "My…this must be working at last. The Wraith genome has been isolated and oh oh." He looked up to see Todd advancing with a big smile.

The Wraith was knocking the medical staff right and left, like pins in a bowling alley. Carson backpedaled, grabbed the nearest weapon to hand which happened to be a surgical tray. He swung it but Todd easily, almost contemptuously knocked it aside. He lunged for the doctor and threw him across the infirmary.

Todd turned and advanced on a human pathetically trying to hide behind a row of beds. He shoved them out of his way, and stared down at the blond woman.

Jennifer Keller staggered to her feet, eyes wide with terror, hands held up in surrender. "Please, please, we tried to help you! We tried to help you! To make you more human!" she whined.

Todd glared. "You tried to exterminate our species! You!" He pointed a long finger at the cowering human. "Your experiments almost killed me!"

"We tried to help you! We tried to help you stop feeding on humans!" Jennifer argued, but her whining voice carried little conviction. "He's the one you want!" she nearly screamed, pointing towards Carson as the doctor was groggily struggling to his feet. "He helped create the Hoffan serum that kills you! He—" She squealed.

Todd grabbed her throat and squeezed, silencing her words, her horrible voice. "Pathetic. Your kind turns on each other so easily. You tried to make us less than Wraith, less than what we are. You!" he hissed, spraying spittle on her white, white face.

"Please, please," Jennifer croaked, eyes bulging as she was lifted. Her feet began to dangle helplessly in the air, until Todd set her down and slammed her into a wall, knocking what little breath that remained out of her.

Todd smiled. He lifted his palm, displaying a sucker. "I'm hungry," he said.

Jennifer stared in pure terror. Helpless. Immobile.

Todd began to feed.

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"Move!" John shoved past a team of marines who were hopelessly trying to access a door. John pressed his palms against the panel, briefly closing his eyes and sternly thinking of releasing the lock down, convincing the city that he would find the Wraith and he would kill it.

The doors opened.

"This way! Lorne, what's your position? All teams to the control room! Beckett, report! Let's move now!" John led the charge through the hall and up the stairs. He skidded into the control room to see the Stargate active, a shimmering pool just waiting. "Shut that thing down!"

"I can't! It's locked!" Radek complained. "It was activated by a remote system!"

"Where the hell is McKay?" John demanded, looking round as marines filled the control room. Delta squad was standing around the 'Gate, guns ready but aiming at nothing. John shoved a technician aside and touched the console. "I'll see if I can lock it down," he muttered, having no idea what he was doing.

Once more he was in engaged in a nonverbal argument with the city, and had to cajole and persuade and sweet talk his way to what he wanted.

It was worse than arguing with a woman.

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"Infirmary!" Ronon growled.

"I sense him!" Teyla confirmed, as she felt the sickening frisson that told her a Wraith was in the vicinity.

The three ran as the doors opened. Alarms were screaming, a claxon of noise that drowned a woman's scream. Ronon led the charge, swinging his big gun. Evan and Teyla followed, flanking him to either side as they entered the medical bay, guns at the ready.

All three skid to an abrupt halt. There was no enemy to fire upon, not any more. The infirmary was strewn with bodies, but all were moving and groaning with pain, surprise, struggling to their feet amid a mess of overturned gurneys and medical instruments and other paraphernalia.

All but one.

A body lay sprawled on the floor, like a broken doll. Except that it wasn't broken but aged. Aged beyond what the human body could endure.

They were too late.

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John opened his eyes at the sounds of men shouting. Down in the 'Gate room men were flying right and left, as if being tossed around by an invisible hand. John knew. He grabbed a P90 from a marine and ran to the 'Gate room. He charged into it, stepping past groaning, fallen men to see a blur coalescing near the event horizon. "Todd!" he shouted.

The blur solidified and Todd smiled at him.

John fired his weapon, advancing, but the gun was suddenly torn from his hands. A long nail whipped across his cheek, scratching and nearly taking out his eye. John staggered, fist flying but Todd was gone, stepping into the wormhole. John made to follow after him.

A second later the wormhole dissolved, and John nearly fell through the empty Stargate. "Track that address now! Raise the Shield! The—"

"Incoming off-world activation!"

John sprang to the side, narrowly avoiding being evaporated as the KAWOOSH ejected the matter stream.

"It's Mr. Woolsey's IDC!"

"Let him through!" John ordered, hand to his cut cheek as blood spilled between his fingers.

"Sheppard," sounded Ronon's voice in his ear, "the infirmary's secure. Todd…he fed. He fed on Keller. She's dead." The Satedan's voice was gruff, heavy with grief and anger.

John froze a moment. He glanced at Delta as the men moved to their feet, grabbing their weapons. He glanced up at the control room to see Rodney heading for him. "Acknowledged. Todd's left the city. Maintain position until I get there. Sheppard out. Delta, keep this room secure until the 'Gate shuts down. All teams, the search is rescinded. The city is secure."

Rodney headed for John, already talking. "…and I don't know what you did to override the lock down because we couldn't access any systems at all but somehow you found a bypass to all of that and now the way is clear to…" He froze. John was staring at him. "You're bleeding."

"I had Carson place a tracking device in him, so we will find him, Rodney, I promise you that," John said, unable to tell his friend about the fate of his almost fiancée.

"Colonel Sheppard! We were too late! The infirmary has several wounded, including Carson. Todd fed on Keller and there's not much left," Evan stated, heading for him but he froze, seeing Rodney. He winced at his abrupt choice of words.

"What?"

Rodney's question hung in the air as absolute silence swallowed all noise. As if the city was holding its breath even the machines were hushed. Still.

John swallowed. Before he could speak a noise made him turn to see Richard emerging from the wormhole. He turned back but Rodney was gone. "Crap," he softly muttered.

Richard paused as the event horizon dissipated behind him. He stared round, confronted with a rattled marine squad and John who was bleeding and Evan who was staring at the floor, obviously upset. "What did I miss?" he asked.


	4. Chapter 4

Stargate Atlantis: Harm's Way4

Rodney was kneeling near the body of his almost fiancée. This corpse looked nothing like Jennifer Keller. If not for the telling blue eye shadow he never would have believed that this thing was her, had been her. That and the name embroidered on the white lab coat she was wearing. All youth, all vitality had been drained from her body. All that was left was an ancient, dried husk. She looked like she was made of paper, and Rodney was afraid to touch her lest she crumble to pieces.

Her blond hair was whiter than white, and falling off her desiccate scalp.

Carson stood near, holding a hand to his temple where a bruise was forming. Teyla kept hold of his arm as he swayed a little, still disorientated from the attack. "I'm so sorry, Rodney," he said, his Scottish brogue slurring slightly as his jaw was sore from the impact of landing. "He came out of nowhere and knocked me for six. He was so fast!" The doctor neglected to add how Jennifer had tried to replace herself with him for Todd's meal. "It was so fast," he repeated uselessly, at a loss.

"There was nothing you could have done, Carson," Teyla soothed. She looked over as John's distinct footsteps echoed in the hallway. She shook her head as he entered the infirmary, trying to warn him but John approached anyway.

"Rodney, I…" he rasped but a fist connected with his jaw. He staggered as the unexpected blow knocked him sideways.

Rodney glared, hands curled into fists as he stood over the Jennifer's corpse. "You! This is your fault! If you hadn't have insisted that we keep Todd like some deranged pet Jen wouldn't be dead now! This never would have happened!"

"Rodney! It is not John's fault!" Teyla scolded, wanting to intervene but she was still supporting Carson who wasn't quite steady on his feet yet.

John raised his hand, silencing her. He rubbed his jaw. "You're right, Rodney. I'm sorry." John glanced down at the corpse, accepting the blame, taking the responsibility. Swallowing yet another loss, another death to be laid at his door, to be added to the ever-growing tally of mistakes and negligence he carried with him in a dark, dark place.

Rodney was about to swing his fist again. Instead he glanced at the body. His anger deflated. "No. I'm sorry. It's not your fault, John. I…I should have anticipated the escalating power demands and compensated more quickly once we had landed on the water and were secure." He dove into science as a refuge to block the tide of grief that was threatening to overwhelm him. "The ZPMs were not able to replenish fast enough after the strain of the star drives and the Shield, plus the added stress of that shock wave which sent the—"

"Rodney," John said. His voice was quiet, gentle.

"Systems into overload," the physicist continued, as if by talking he could avoid the horror in front of him. As if by talking he could ignore it and keep his emotions in check. "It was a near catastrophic overload. I should have routed all secondary systems to a sleep mode and let the rest of the city compensate for the initial damages and then the—"

"Rodney," John attempted, touching his friend's shoulder.

"What?" Rodney snapped.

"It wasn't your fault," John assured.

"It wasn't anyone's fault," Carson said, looking from one to the other. "Go on. We'll take care of her. There's really no need for an, an autopsy." Nevertheless the doctor's eyes narrowed as questions filled his mind. "Go on, Rodney. There's nothing you can do here," he said gently.

"I…I…" Rodney stammered, wanting to flee but feeling the need to stay.

John led his friend away from the body as it was covered by a sheet. One arm stuck out, a pathetic limb of stretched, aged skin and brittle bone. "Hey, why don't you go monitor the power levels, okay, Rodney?" John asked, knowing his friend needed the distraction. "I should check in with Woolsey and see if he's got any intel."

"Shouldn't I be included in that meeting? Are you trying to exclude me now, is that it? I…I…" Rodney spluttered, stopped and turned back to see the covered body. Ronon was carefully, so carefully lifting it onto a bed. Pieces of dried skin fell to the floor like parchment, and Rodney's stomach lurched. Jealousy flared, seeing Ronon handling her with such utter gentleness, but he realized how foolish that was. Jennifer had chosen him over Ronon. Not that it mattered now. Nothing really did. He looked at John. "I don't know what to do," he quietly admitted.

"There's nothing you can do," John replied, voice somber. Green eyes full of gravity, sympathy. He glanced past him to see Ronon standing, solemnly staring at the covered body. Amelia stepped next to him and slid her hand into his. It was an oddly intimate moment and John looked back at Rodney, curious and uncomfortable.

"I…I suppose we'll have to dial Earth for the for the funeral but I don't think we have the power yet to do that…" Rodney's teeth started to chatter as if he was freezing and he clamped his mouth shut to silence them.

"You're in shock, Rodney. Sit down." John guided him to a chair in the hallway and pushed him onto it in a seated position.

"No, we can't dial Earth yet we don't have the power requirements even for a communication let alone traveling to Earth through the Stargate. And when we do there'll be hell to pay because we just left like we did and I never got around to asking her anyway after all..." he babbled, staring at nothing, staring at his hands, staring at John's military boots.

John looked round, uncomfortable. He was never good in these kinds of situations, in any situation requiring emotions and consoling words. "Um, um, yeah…I…I…" he floundered, desperate to escape but wanting to be there for his friend.

Teyla moved to them with a sigh, shaking her head at John's inept way of comforting his friend and Rodney's continuing babbling over everything but what he really needed to discuss. "I will look after him, John. Go see what Mr. Woolsey has learned," she said, taking a seat next to her friend and taking his hand in hers. "Go."

"Okay, Teyla. Thanks. I…Rodney…sorry." Awkwardly he patted his friend's shoulder and strode away from them.

He couldn't get away fast enough.

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Richard was shaking his head as he sat in his office. His hands were folded together on top of a pile of folders, although most paperwork was rendered obsolete thanks to the data pads and other Lantean technology. Still, he liked the familiarity of paperwork. His trusty briefcase was a little worse for wear, but stood in a corner safe and sound. "And then Todd escaped?"

Evan nodded as he stood, neglecting the empty chair in front of him. "Yes sir. Zelenka's still tracking how the Stargate was activated in a secondary system, and by a Wraith, no less. The whole city lost power and that's how Todd escaped. By the time it was restored…" He left the horrendous results unsaid.

Richard sighed. "Doctor Keller," he said softly. "And now we just let loose a Wraith on an unsuspecting populace. It is another crime to be laid at our door."

"Another crime?" John asked, joining them. He glanced at Evan and took the empty seat. "Are we the damn scapegoat for the galaxy now?" he flared, but he sounded tired and his voice was gruff, guilty and he frowned.

"Apparently," Richard acknowledged. "If the Manarians are any indication of how the galaxy feels, and I have a feeling that they are then yes, we are the source of everything that has gone wrong. How's Rodney?" he asked.

"In shock."

"I think we all are, sir," Evan noted. He shifted his stance, weary as well, but still declined to take the empty seat in front of him. He clasped his hands behind his back.

"What's the situation out there?" John asked, crossing his legs and settling back in the comfortable chair. The cushions felt welcoming to his weary muscles. He wanted nothing more than a bite to eat and a beer, but he forced all those needs aside.

"Bad. You were right about the Genii. However, it didn't take much for them to foster anti-Atlantis sentiment and take over the Coalition."

"Did you broker a truce?"

"Not really." Richard sighed, ran a hand over his balding head and adjusted his glasses. "They don't want our help, but they'll come running for it soon enough. They know, as we do, that we are the only ones who can stand against the Wraith and win. But something has them and the rest of the galaxy spooked. Something is happening, colonel, something that they have never seen."

"You mean the Wraith colonizing worlds," Evan noted.

"Yes, major, but it's more than that. The unification under this single queen is equally alarming and unprecedented. I was told that for a while the Wraith were absent. The Genii assumed that they were pursuing us. But when the Wraith returned they were united and began this colonization of certain worlds. The Genii assumed they were running from us, or to us."

"Both of which we know are not true," John stated. He rubbed his chin, still sore from the hit given by Rodney. His cut cheek had a makeshift bandage on it that irritated his skin. He was tempted to scratch but instead rested his hands on the chair's wide arms.

"Which means things just got more complicated for us, with Todd on the loose."

"He won't be for long. He'll hook up with the Wraith, maybe even this new queen," John suggested, thinking. "With any luck we can track him, and by tracking him we can track the Wraith. That might give us a slight advantage. As for our so-called allies we'll lie low for a bit, but we need more intel."

"You are thinking of resuming missions?" Richard asked.

John nodded. "Yes. Only military teams right now, however. Strictest guidelines will be observed at all times. If the people of this galaxy don't want our help, fine. They won't get it."

"That seems rather harsh, John."

"I know," he conceded, "but it sounds like it's a new game now, so new rules apply. Especially as we are cut off from Earth, momentarily."

"What does that mean for us, sir?" Evan asked, directing his question to John.

John considered. "It means that for now we are in this battle alone."


	5. Chapter 5

Stargate Atlantis: Harm's Way5

It was a quiet service. It was dignified. Richard had insisted that everyone in Atlantis attend, whether they knew Jennifer Keller or not. Morale was low, but the populace needed to be united, even it was in grief or sympathy. The Gate room was packed, crowded. Many stood while others sat in chairs gathered from all across the city. It was a service of words and sentiments. A service without a body, as Jennifer's corpse was in a stasis chamber waiting for the time when it could be transported to Earth for a proper funeral. It would be a closed casket, but at least her family could properly mourn her and bury her.

John sat next to Rodney, highly uncomfortable. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He couldn't keep still, shifting on the chair, tapping his foot, drumming his fingers together all the while as Richard droned on and on. John glanced at Rodney, wondering if his friend was equally wishing he were somewhere else, anywhere else.

Rodney's head was downcast, arms folded over his chest. He wore a simple dark suit. He was as still as the grave.

John winced at the comparison. He glanced around the room, turning slightly in his chair to see the citizens of Atlantis. Most were watching Richard, listening and looking to him for solace, for consolation, for leadership. The same things they would expect from John when it was his turn to speak, and he inwardly cringed at that thought.

Teyla was quietly bouncing Torren on her lap as she sat next to Kanaan. She appeared sad, almost disheartened until her husband slid his arm around her and she relaxed against him. As if sensing the solemnity of the occasion the baby was sucking on a pacifier, content. Ronon sat behind her, Amelia at his side. His stern gaze held sorrow and anger, and concern as he watched Rodney with hooded eyes. Evan stood with a group of marines, stoic and solemn. Sorrow lined his face, gleamed in his blue eyes as he watched Richard.

John cast his gaze over the crowd. His chair squeaked as he shifted on it. A few women were watching him, or Rodney, he wasn't sure, except for Katie Brown whose gaze was locked on Rodney with compassion and concern. She stared at the man she had once dated, at the man whose proposal she had refused before he had even uttered it. John had always thought she was perfect for him, and he wondered what had gone awry in that relationship.

A nudge from Carson made John turn back around in his seat to face the front. He met the doctor's gaze as he sat on Rodney's other side. The doctor's blue eyes were scolding, stern but understanding. John shrugged, eyed Richard who was gesturing towards him with an open hand. The Stargate loomed behind him, a giant stone circle watching over the crowd.

"Colonel? Colonel, would you like to say a few words?"

"No." John stood, feeling Rodney's stare, Carson's glare on him. He stepped to the podium as Richard stepped aside. John knew it was his duty as military commander to say something, but he had no idea what to say or how to express himself. "That is to say I didn't know Doctor Keller that well," he temporized, mitigating the bluntness of his refusal awkwardly. "She was a promising medical student and a—"

"She was a doctor," Rodney said tersely.

"Ah. Yeah. Sorry." John swallowed. "She just didn't seem like much of a…anyway," he floundered, clearing his throat noisily, hands clasping the podium and inadvertently almost knocking it over, "as I said I really didn't know her that well," he defended, lips forming a slight pout in protest. He saw Teyla's admonishing look, Ronon's scowl.

Ann Teldy was clad in dress blues like he was, like all the military were and she appeared severe, almost cross at his fumbling. A fine line was forming between her blond brows and he felt himself straightening his posture, as if he was a boy being reprimanded. He fought to keep the scowl off his face.

His gaze flitted along the crowd until a soft smile arrested his nervous hesitation. A woman stood in the back, almost lost in the crowd around her. Her brown hair was loose, falling softly along her shoulders, along a simple gray blouse. She was holding a rose. The flower was still a bud, not even open, the soft pink petals still closed and folded together. The color matched her lips, but it was the emotion in her brown eyes, the sympathy and empathy and gentle humor that calmed him, centered him.

He wondered what her name was.

He found words. "We all know the risks out here, and every one of us chose to return despite that. We've all suffered loss, some more than others, but we cannot let that change our resolution to be out here. We cannot let that hinder our mission, now more than ever. Our absence only proved how much we are needed out here, now, in this galaxy. Doctor Keller knew the risks, but she decided to come back with us despite the danger. We won't let her loss be in vain. We won't let her loss deter us from our mission, from what we need to do out here. Doctor Keller knew the risks, and she paid the price for my mistakes. I am deeply sorry for that." He met Rodney's gaze a moment.

He moved back to his seat, having nothing else to say. He sat. Folded his hands together on his lap and stared at the Stargate, wishing the memorial service was finished, wishing he could grab a beer or two or three, wishing he could get out of his dress blues and go for a run. Wishing he knew the right words to comfort his friend who sat next to him, forlorn.

Rodney nodded slightly, but remained silent. He was lost in maelstrom of grief and guilt and anger, and sheer horror as the last image of Jennifer in his mind was not that of a vibrant, young blond woman but that of a dry husk of what barely appeared to be a human being.

He knew he would have nightmares for weeks.

Carson nodded at John, bestowing his approval before he stood and moved to the podium. Soon his Scottish brogue filled the air, comforting, cascading from compassion to humor as he told a funny story to produce gentle laughter, to ease the grief at the loss of one of their own.

To place the grief into gentle perspective, respecting it but at the same time moving it from despair to sorrow to acceptance.

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"It wasn't your fault, you know."

John looked up from his mug of beer. He was sitting in the cafeteria, alone. Still clad in his dress blues despite the lateness of the hour he brooded, brooded. His tie was loose, askew. His jacket unbuttoned. He said nothing, sipped his beer and set it aside, resigning himself. All he wanted was to be left alone.

Ronon stood, towering over his friend. His bulky shadow darkened the table and cast John into gloom.

John shrugged and said nothing.

"Things happen. Bad things. The Wraith."

"It was my decision to keep him in the city. I insisted," John said slowly, feeling the need to say something if only to make his friend go away. He didn't feel the need to explain his decisions, his actions. Nevertheless he accepted the blame and shouldered it like he always did.

"You didn't know the power would fail. You didn't know he would escape," Ronon reasoned. He stood, blocking the light as he waited, waited.

"I should have realized. Guess it doesn't matter now." John sipped his beer. There was a long, long silence between the two men.

"Guess not," Ronon agreed at last. "It wasn't your fault." Ronon waited, but John was silent. Having said what he needed to say Ronon debated, debated, then simply left. He wasn't the talkative sort at the best of times, and these were far from the best of times. Still, he had said what he needed to say to his friend. The rest was up to him.

John scowled. He looked up when at last the Satedan walked away from him, heading for the exit. Once more the light fell across the table and shone in the amber liquid that partially filled his mug. John watched Ronon go, appreciating the concern, the sympathy even, but it wouldn't change the way he felt. He was responsible for Jennifer's death. He was responsible for Rodney's grief. He was responsible for the unease of the populace and the unease of the city.

He sipped his beer, brooding alone once more.

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Rodney stood on the East Pier, staring at the dark ocean beneath him. City lights played across the waves, making them appear like stars had fallen from the sky and were caught in the ebb and flow of the dark water. He could hear the soothing susurration of the waters rolling back and forth, back and forth in an endless and eternal concert.

He held a small red box in his hands. He was turning it round and round, over and over. He could hear the slight rattle of the ring inside it. He sighed, about to lob it into the roiling ocean where it would sink into the darkness and be forgotten. Much like his hopes were.

He felt guilty over Jennifer's death, not from what had happened but because it oddly freed him from having to make the proposal. He knew it was foolish, an older man's hubris at having a younger woman be with him, and feeling the need to marry her in order to keep her. Especially one as flighty as Jennifer had been. But her youth and impulsiveness are what had made her so attractive, so unlike the women that he usually found attractive and interesting.

Not to mention her beauty. Her winsome face surrounded by her blond hair.

He had always had a weakness for blonds.

He was flattered, of course, to be the subject of her interest. He was astonished by how far the relationship had gone. He recalled John's words, how she was the one to be lucky to have him, that she wasn't worthy of him, but he knew that wasn't true. He hadn't been worthy of her. He still couldn't quite believe she had even fallen for him, much less pursued a romantic and physical relationship with him.

Beyond that there wasn't much to bind them, however. It was a cold assessment but it was the truth. Even so Rodney had been planning to propose. He knew it would probably have been a disaster but he wanted to do it anyway, lest he lose her.

He sighed again. He lifted the box to toss it into the waves. He hesitated. Suddenly the image of Katie filled his mind. Her expression of sympathy and sadness, her concern for him despite everything, despite the botched proposal had made him feel comforted. They had drifted apart after that, only spoke in passing but there was never any animosity.

He missed talking to her.

He wondered if he could talk to her soon. He wondered if he could talk about Jennifer, or about work, or about nothing. Maybe they could just enjoy a simple meal together sometime.

He slipped the box back into his pocket and watched the waves.


End file.
